Firefly Mk2 point 2: Realm of the Beast
by BDM
Summary: The new Serenity crew is dispatched to an unknown planet, a world which they will soon discover is threatened by powers beyond their imagination. Based on the Shadow of the Beast game series.
1. They Aim to Misbehave

**Disclaimer:** As well as Firefly and Halo, this story is based on the Shadow of the Beast game series. The copyrights of the games belong to (as far as I know) Ubisoft Reflections (formerly Reflections Interactive) and SCE Studio Liverpool (formerly Psygnosis).

**FIREFLY Mk2.2: REALM OF THE BEAST**

**They Aim to Misbehave**

The planet of Tau was a popular pit-stop for many alien species out in the blackness of space. While only a small planet and little more than a lump of rock, it was home to one of the biggest salvaging operations in that region of the galaxy, as well as one of the most advanced smelting and metal refining plants. This area of space was notorious for the sudden meteor showers that came through it, which often caught ships unawares, making them ripe pickings for scavengers. What better place to set up a refinery and an intergalactic equivalent of a trucker's stop, where there would be no shortage of materials and passing customers?

If Alan Tyler and his crew of the Firefly-class transport ship _Serenity_ had thought that they could, they would have avoided the place. However, they needed to make a stop there in order to smelt the material known as Unobtainium that they had recently acquired, and craft it into a suitable superconductor for their ship's recently-installed slip-space drive. Bishop, the ship's pilot, would be overseeing the operation with the engineer, Rachel Tam. This left Alan, the First Mate Alistair, and the gunner José Lovano, with some time on their hands to sample the local culture.

So it came to pass that the trio found themselves sat at a table in the place known as 'Spike's Place' in the English language. The place was an alien bar, but Alan couldn't help but feel that it was more of a facsimile of similar bars on Earth; he supposed that alehouses were pretty much a universal constant anywhere in the galaxy. Of course, what separated it from any bar on Earth was the variety of bizarre-looking alien life that frequented the place. Some were humanoid, some reminiscent of animals and insects back on Earth, others were really hard for Alan to describe. The bizarre appearances of the patrons, however, somehow did not look out-of-place; the only person who did was José, as the only human in the bar. As a result he was getting a lot of odd looks; apparently most aliens had been convinced that the Covenant had rendered the human race extinct. They had had some trouble ordering drinks, but luckily the surly, warthog-like barman had picked up some English phrases while on a trip to someplace called Illium, though he admitted that he never expected to get customers from Earth.

In order to try and set José at ease, the griffin-like gargoyle Alistair was in the process of regaling him and the Godzilla mutant Alan with a story of an incident that happened to him about a month before the war ended. It was presently night-time on Tau, meaning that he could move about in his flesh-and-blood form freely. The incident he described had involved some kind of viral outbreak in London, involving a contamination of what was known only as the 'Rage' virus. In spite of the storytelling, José still couldn't help but feel uneasy; he was sure that both Alan and Alistair were in their element, surrounded by so many other non-humans.

"The Phoenix Gate?" Alan was now asking the gargoyle. "What's that when it's at home?"

"The Manhattan Clan found it centuries ago," Alistair explained. "From what I understand, it's like a portable time-travel device, and it caused a lot of trouble for Goliath when he stumbled across it. It disappeared after he was finished with it, but it turned up in New York again a couple of weeks after you left. Brooklyn found it, and now it's zapping him through the ages for some unknown reason. Brooklyn calls it a 'Timedance'."

"Catchy," Alan said. "I take it one of his stops was merry old London?"

"Is my skin green?" Alistair replied, smirking. "He'd already been back to Castle Wyvern; saw himself frozen in stone and all. Anyway, he wound up right in the thick of the outbreak, with me and the rest of my clan. He thought I was me great-grandad Griff at first, though I still say I'm the more handsome devil. Anyway, with Brooklyn's help we managed to get out of London. When he saw the Infected, he said he had a strong feeling of déjà-vu. I asked him what he meant, and he told me all about you and the Destroyer parasite."

"So he remembered me, did he?" Alan asked, smirking.

"He certainly did," Alistair replied. "I mean, who could forget your face?"

"Believe it or not," Alan said wryly, "there was a time when I could still pass for a human. I doubt he'd recognise me now, if he saw me. Like you said; stick a pair of wings on me, and I could pass for a gargoyle myself."

"Anyway," Alistair said, shrugging, "I was doing some night-security work for Saeder-Krupp at the time, so I could do my bit in supporting the clan. Lofwyr must have remembered my report about the Rage outbreak and Brooklyn's involvement; he approached me when he was scouting for crew for the _Serenity_, and asked if I'd like to work with the real Alan Tyler. I have to admit that the idea of working with someone over five hundred years old sparked my curiosity."

"I think he sent you just to keep me in line," Alan said. "Just to make sure I was actually _looking_ for Kiryuu and wasn't just trying to get away from his dinner table."

"Oh, come off it," Alistair scoffed. "If you thought I was really a spy, you'd never talk freely around me."

"You never know," Alan said, smirking. "My openness could all be part of some highly over-complicated ruse to screw you over."

"Well, if that's the case," Alistair replied, mockingly, "don't expect me to just bend over and take it up the tailpipe."

José had been listening quietly to all of this, feeling somewhat left-out of the proceedings. Not that he particularly cared; getting too attached to others was just too much trouble, as far as he saw. He tried to gulp down some of the alien brew that they had tried to sample. The liquid tasted like tar, and burned his throat as he swallowed. He let out a gagging noise, looking like he was going to be violently sick.

"You alright, mate?" Alistair asked.

"¡Chinga!" José exclaimed, gasping. "What the hell's this crap made of? Brute piss?" He suddenly stood up violently, and turned towards the bar.

"What the smeg are you doing?" Alan asked.

"I'm gonna tell them to get some _real_ beer here, pronto!" José snarled indignantly. He moved through the gathered patrons towards the bar, pushing his way to the front of the long queue.

"Great..." Alan groaned. "This is all we need." He and Alistair watched as José made his loud and indignant complaints to the barkeep. A number of the patrons turned their heads to witness the argument, and several aliens in the queue complained loudly in their various tongues. José didn't seem to be bothered by this, instead turning his ire towards the patrons and increasing the volume of his voice.

"And now he's arguing with the prawns..." Alistair said, with a loud sigh. His wording was somewhat accurate, for the aliens now arguing with José did indeed look like large, bipedal king prawns, complete with long antennae, long spindly limbs and tentacles creeping out of their mouths. One was covered in a muddy-brown carapace, while the other was a blue-green colour. Both were dressed in loose-fitting scraps of clothing, as if they had just been pulled out of a dumpster. They did have voices and an identifiable language, but it was barely audible by an odd clicking sound which they made as they spoke.

Alan and Alistair now felt thoroughly embarrassed, but José did not seem to care; he was now starting on a new tirade about aliens not learning English. The prawns responded with more clicking (unknown to Alan, one of them had actually said "Fuck off!" in their native language), which only served to raise José's temper.

"How about _I_ use a language you don't understand, eh?" he shouted mockingly. "¡Chinga te, pendejo!"

"I really think I'd better get in there..." Alan sighed, as the prawns raised their own clicking voices, their tentacles flapping madly.

"Kind of a shame, really," Alistair replied. "I was just about to get popcorn."

Alan rose and crossed over to the scene of the argument. The blue-skinned prawn had raised a clawed fist to strike, but Alan prodded him gently on the shoulder, causing him to turn his large brown eyes over to him.

"Excuse me," Alan said, in a firm tone. "This guy's one of my crew, and I'll be the one to deal with him, if you don't mind. He's really not worth the effort, trust me. Now let me get you something-"

Afterwards, Alan could never say for certain what it was he had done to upset the prawns, for the next thing he knew he was being picked up and hurled bodily through the thin plexiglass window at the front of the bar. Landing outside roughly on the dusty ground, he slowly picked himself up, feeling sore all over. Inside the bar, loud bangs and crashes could be heard, along with a lot of breaking glass. Looking back to the window, Alan could see that total chaos had unfolded inside. The place had now degenerated into a large alien bar-brawl, and both José and Alistair were in the thick of it. He sighed and shook his head.

_Just once,_ he thought, _I'd like to see the diplomatic approach work._

Groaning at the prospect, he jumped through the window and joined in the brawl, in an effort to retrieve his troublesome crew.

0

A few minutes later, the _Serenity_ had made a speedy departure from Tau, complete with a warning that if it should try to land on the planet again it would be shot out of the sky. Not long afterwards, the ship was once again landing in the large hangar of the Reverence-class cruiser _Divine Journey_, which had given the _Serenity_ a lift through slip-space to reach Tau as quickly as possible. The plated, almost bird-like design of the ship contrasted strangely with the sleek lavender-hued designs of the small Phantom dropship that shared the hangar, as well as the interior of the cruiser itself.

The ramp leading into the _Serenity_'s cargo bay lowered, and all five crew members stepped down into the hangar. Alan approached two of the tall, armoured Sangheili that were waiting for them expectantly. The captain couldn't help but wonder how he was going to explain to them about what happened down on the planet's surface.

"Welcome back, Alan," said Cujo 'Mentatal, the gold-armoured Shipmaster of the _Divine Journey_. "I assume your errand was a success?"

"I guess it was," Alan replied off-handedly. "Bishop and Rachel did the best that they could, but maybe one of your engineers should look over it, just to be safe. After all, it's your tech we're messing around with here."

"Say no more," Cujo said. "We can't have one of the last Fireflies blow itself up, can we? Xovu would never let me hear the end of it." He called over to one of the other Sangheili, who was overseeing adjustments to the Phantom in the hangar.

"Loga," Cujo said, "get on the _Serenity_ and check the slip-space drive."

"Rachel," Alan called to his small engineer. "Go with him. Help him make sense of the engine."

"Aye-aye, Captain," Rachel called. She and Loga walked back up the ramp into the depths of the _Serenity_. As Cujo saw them leave, his eyes fell on José and Alistair, both of whom were covered in bruises. José in-particular looked a mess, as he was sporting a black eye and a burst lip. Both of them were apparently still concussed, for they were staggering about like drunk scarecrows, leaning on each other for support. Alan, of course, was unmarked, the Organiser G-1 that flowed through his veins having healed all signs of injury.

"So what happened to them?" Cujo asked. Alan groaned, leaning in closer to Cujo.

"We had some trouble with the locals," he said in a low tone. "I've only been in space a fortnight, and I'm now barred from two planets."

"You need to exercise more control over your crew, Tyler," Cujo snarled. "Did you honestly think being a Shipmaster would be easy? If you get your ship barred from many more planets you won't be much use to this fleet!"

"What are you getting at me for?" Alan replied indignantly. "I didn't start it! Actually, I got tossed through a window for trying to be diplomatic! Besides, I may be part of your fleet, but it's not like I go shouting about it! As far as everyone else is concerned, I'm your bog-standard privateer. Whatever trouble comes, it'll be my problem, not yours. I don't expect anyone to dig me out of my own shit."

"Be that as it may," Cujo retorted, "you are a Shipmaster. That means you're responsible for your crew's actions, and everything that happens to them, your ship and yourself! If your crew goes around picking fights with every non-human they meet, then what does that say about you?"

Alan sighed, looking back at Alistair and José. The Mexican seemed to be in the process of relating a funny story from the incident, as he was laughing and joking. He seemed remarkably casual for someone who had just pulled the _Serenity_'s name through the mud on an alien planet.

"That obvious, was it?" he groaned.

"You've got to do something about him," Cujo muttered. "He has been openly antagonising every one of my people who try to address him. He honestly seems to think that he can bring down a combat-trained Sangheili in a fist fight."

"I'd like to see him try," muttered Dovi 'Canthon, the towering Sangheili stood next to Cujo and also the ship's Field Master.

"If I had any choice in the matter," Alan muttered, "he wouldn't be on my ship. He's not getting away with what happened down there, that's flat."

Alan wasn't sure if José was paying attention, but his patience with the hired gun was wearing very thin, and he was past the point of caring. Just then, Loga and Rachel approached them.

"What's your report?" Cujo asked.

"Well, it's certainly not the way I would have fitted up an engine," Loga replied, with some amusement. "Still, the new superconductor is connected to the slip-space drive and appears to be fully functional. We won't know for certain without a test flight, however."

"All other systems are A-OK, Captain," Rachel said, cheerily. "_Serenity_'s got a clean bill of health. We can take that test flight at any time."

"No time like the present," Alan said.

"Then I've got just the opportunity for you," Cujo chimed in. "As you already know, we're scouting every planet we come across for some sign of our missing Supreme Commander, Telek 'Heros. A previously-unknown planet has surfaced on our long-range scanners, located in the Hawking Eta cluster. We covered a lot of ground back in the dark days of the Covenant, but this will be our first time charting this particular rock. With our search for any sign of Telek, giving this planet the once-over is more important than ever."

"I take it we've been picked to be the pioneers, then?" Alan asked wryly.

"If you want to put it like that," Cujo replied, chuckling. "You'll have to make your own flag, though."

"Anyone going with me?" Alan asked.

"Tom, Tulsa and Wago are scouting other worlds in our vicinity," Cujo replied, "while I'll need Mitsu's help to cover a more promising-looking location. I'll send you the coordinates of the planet and our rendezvous point once you're out in the Black. I would guess the planet's not much more than an hour away via slip-space, provided you don't make a wrong turn."

"Understood," Alan replied, giving a quick salute. "We'll try and bring back something nice."

"Don't let Telek catch you calling him that," Dovi chimed in, chuckling. With that, Alan turned to face the rest of his crew.

"Alright, people," he called, "we've got ourselves a new job. Let's saddle up." Alan, Alistair, Bishop and Rachel proceeded up the entrance ramp. As José made to follow them, however, Alan grabbed his shoulder.

"Not you," Alan said, forcibly. "You're grounded for this mission."

"What?" José spluttered indignantly. "You must be fucking joking!"

"If only," Alan said. "I'm not having you setting back human/alien relationships for the next millennium this time."

"You can't do this to me, Captain!" José howled. "Or should I say 'Shipmaster'! Malcho signs my paychecks, not your Elite butt-buddies!"

"That overgrown peacock's not here though, is he?" Alan snarled. "I hate pulling rank, but while you're part of this fleet you answer to me, and right now I'm saying that you keep your arse on this ship until we get back. If you get bored, I'm sure Cujo or Dovi can give you something to do. Maybe some time spent among the Elites will teach you a few manners."

Before José could protest any further, the ramp was raised as Alan walked into the depths of the _Serenity_. When the ramp was secured, José stepped back as the ship lifted off from the floor of the hangar and turned towards open space. The shielding technology in the hangars allowed for ships to pass freely through the force-fields protecting the crew from the vacuum of space, and within seconds the ship was sailing out into the stars. Turning away from the view of space, José caught sight of both Cujo and Dovi, who were fixing identical steely gazes at him.

"Chinga..." he groaned.


	2. Shore Leave

**Shore Leave**

"He is gonna be really pissed," Alistair said a few minutes later, as the _Serenity_ sped through the swirling vortex of slip-space. "You are aware you're setting yourself up for a mutiny with that guy?"

"Frankly, I'm past caring," Alan snapped. "If he wants to act like a complete wanker, he can do it elsewhere. Hopefully the Elites will beat some sense into him. Besides, how can he be expected to take over the ship? None of you take him seriously, do you?"

"Well, I bloody well don't," Alistair sighed. "I'm just saying you should be careful around him. He doesn't strike me as the sort who'll follow orders if they don't suit him."

"I'll bloody well make him that sort, if I have to," Alan muttered. "I'm not taking any crap from him or anyone else."

"It's your call, boss," Alistair said, though his tone still sounded doubtful. "Just don't let power get to your head, alright?"

Alan had been on the point of rebutting Alistair, but thought better of it and took a couple of deep breaths. He knew that Alistair was right in that José could end up doing something drastic if pushed too far, but on the other hand he didn't see how he could keep his team in line or gather any respect from them if he was soft. Cujo was right; he was the Captain of this ship, and that meant having to take charge.

"Let's just hope we don't need a gunner on this planet then," he said. He turned to face Alistair, who suddenly grunted and fell to one knee. There was an odd crackling noise, and Alistair's usually green and leathery skin suddenly turned a dull grey for a moment. When Alan reached out an arm to help him to his feet, he noticed that the gargoyle's skin had the texture of concrete.

"Can't this tub go any faster?" Alistair groaned. "I dunno if I can take much more of this..."

Gargoyles usually slept frozen in a stone form by day. However, out in space there was no day or night, and Alistair's body was finding it hard to cope. It often tried for a halfway house between sleeping and waking forms, which led to a lot of discomfort for Alistair, along with a feeling of constant lethargy and other side-effects such as the stone skin. Upon first learning that he would be joining the crew, Alan could not help but wonder if Alistair was just bringing problems upon himself. The gargoyle did his best to hide these problems, but he could not maintain the façade for long. Alan helped him into the co-pilot's chair.

"Bishop," Alan said, addressing the android pilot, "tell me it's not far now."

"I wish I could, Captain," Bishop said, solemnly. "Even in slip-space it takes time to cover long distances. I estimate that we have another thirty minutes' flight time. If it's any consolation, this voyage would have taken months without the slip-space drive."

"Well, I'd better not jinx our chances," Alan said. "Best not ask Rachel how the engine's holding up right now."

"If you'll forgive my tone," Bishop said, "we have currently beaten our personal best distance in slip-space. Besides, I am confident that Ms. Tam will alert us if anything goes wrong."

Alan sighed, and eventually retreated to his cabin to look over some notes and prepare himself for the mission. Now that he was up in space, it occurred to him just how largely monotonous it was; he had seen nothing like what had been shown in pictures sent through the Hubble telescope back in the 20th century. There was not much in the way of scenery to look at, and he was just glad that they no longer faced the prospect of taking years to get to their destinations.

As he sat looking through the notes on strategy and battle tactics left for him by Kiryuu Knight, he idly wondered about what had happened to Telek 'Heros. He wondered why the Supreme Commander of the Fleet Shadow of Fury had gone off on his own, and what sort of agenda he was hoping to pursue. Perhaps he knew something about Kiryuu's whereabouts that the others didn't, but if that was the case he wondered what made the Sangheili think he could find Kiryuu by himself when he had an entire fleet at his disposal. Something about it didn't add up; he hoped he would get the chance to question Telek and find out what he was up to. He hoped that this new planet would have some answers, yet bitter experience had taught him to expect otherwise.

0

Less than an hour later, the _Serenity_ dropped out of slip-space, the vortex fading and giving way to the all-too-familiar sight of a field of stars full of alien constellations. The sphere of the as-yet-uncharted planet floated serenely in the void as the ship made its approach. It was not a large planet by any means; it was about the size of Earth, and it even had its own small moon. It too had identifiable continents and oceans, yet the landmasses were larger than those on Earth. Bishop carefully moved the _Serenity_ into a geostationary orbit around the planet, and began to run the scanning equipment. Alan came up to the bridge, having noticed that the humming noise that accompanied the slip-space drive was now silent.

"Are we there now?" he asked.

"Yes, Captain," Bishop nodded. "These are indeed the co-ordinates that Shipmaster Cujo gave us. I'm running a preliminary scan now, though I must say that the _Serenity_'s scanning equipment could do with some upgrades."

"Don't let Rachel catch you saying that," Alistair chimed in. "You saw her face after the slip-space drive and the new engines were installed; she looked about ready to cry."

"Speaking of which..." Alan muttered, hailing the engine room on the ship's intercom. "Rachel, how did the drive hold up?"

"_As good as gold, Captain,"_ Rachel responded. _"The new superconductor worked a treat; there was no overheating at all. I'd say it's taken to Serenity like a duck to water."_

"That's good to hear," Alan replied. "How do you feel about taking a trip onto the planet surface? We'll need a third in the away team, what with José stuck back at the fleet."

"_What, are you serious?"_ Rachel said excitedly. _"Of course I will! I get to step onto an alien planet; how could I pass this up?"_

"Glad to hear you're excited," Alan chuckled. "Get yourself ready and meet us in the cargo bay." With that, he turned to face Bishop again. "What are the instruments showing?"

"Well," Bishop said, "according to preliminary scans, there is almost no evidence of technology on the planet, in spite of there being large life-form readings. We can't know for certain until we're on the planet itself, but it all suggests that any civilisation down there is in its pre-industrial state. If any sentient beings are down there, they will be a very scattered population with few towns or cities. I would not be so presumptuous as to say that they are completely ignorant of technology, but they will definitely live more simple lives compared to ours."

"Do I detect a backhanded insult?" Alan asked, smirking.

"No, Captain," Bishop replied blankly. "I am simply stating what I have observed from my scans."

"Alright, keep your wig on," Alan shrugged, turning to Alistair. "Can we breathe the atmosphere?"

"Yup," Alistair replied, looking up from the co-pilot's console. "It's at least as breathable as the air in New Mombasa. Of course, there's always the danger of airborne infectious agents."

"I don't think so, Alistair," Bishop chimed in. "Alien microbes should be no threat to us. They will have not evolved to take advantage of our cell structures."

"Not that you need to worry about getting the alien equivalent of measles, anyway," Alan chuckled. "Right, Bishop, find us a safe place to set down. Alistair, we'd better get ready and meet Rachel in the cargo bay."

"Roger, Captain," Bishop said.

"Aye-aye, sir," Alistair said, making his way out of the bridge. As Bishop steered the ship towards the ever-growing sphere of the planet, Alan headed to his cabin to retrieve his Technomantic whip and revolver, before heading down to the cargo bay. In the large space he found both Alistair and Rachel waiting for him. Rachel was still wearing her muddy-brown boiler-suit, complete with stains of engine grease, but had made attempts to tidy her long brown hair. She had a small pistol and a flashlight holstered to her belt. Alistair, meanwhile, had a pair of Covenant-design plasma rifles holstered, as well as what looked like a katana strapped to his back. Alan raised his eyebrows when he saw the plasma rifles.

"I thought gargoyles never used guns?" he asked.

"Well, the Manhattan clan don't," Alistair replied, grinning. Presently there was a loud thud and the ship shook slightly as it touched down on solid ground.

"_It's safe to open the cargo bay doors now,"_ Bishop said, speaking over Alan's commlink.

"Got it, Bishop," he replied. He crossed over to the door controls, opening up both the metal airlock doors and the large ramp that lead outside. A blast of cold night air filled the cargo bay as Alan, Alistair and Rachel stepped out onto a grassy plain, bathed in moonlight. Alan was thankful that Bishop had found a landing site which was still in darkness, or else Alistair would not have been able to come. As the trio stepped away from the landing ramp, it began to rise again.

"_I will take the ship into a low orbit, Captain,"_ Bishop said over the commlink, his voice almost drowned out by the loud noise of the engines firing up. _"I will continue my scans from there. Signal when you need me."_

"Roger that, Bishop," Alan replied.

_"Good luck,"_ Bishop replied, before signing off. The landing party watched the _Serenity_ take off, as it spun around and blasted off into the night sky. When it was out of sight, Alistair looked out across the plain. It seemed to spread for miles in all directions, towards the high, jagged peaks of a mountain range. The mountains twisted into strange hooked shapes, sometimes resembling arches made of stone. They reminded Alan of the Mountains of the Phoenix back on Earth. In the darkness, their silhouettes filled him with a stark sense of foreboding.

"Well..." Alistair muttered. "Guess we'd better pick a direction."

"Can I just check something?" Alan asked. "Neither of you are wearing red shirts, are you?"

"Huh?" Rachel asked. "What's that got to do with anything, Captain?"

Alan sighed. "Never mind," he said. "I guess that joke fell flat."

0

For some time afterwards there seemed to be little other than this huge, remote plain and a gaunt quiet which was broken up only by the soft footsteps of the group. There was no sign of life for miles; not even the scuffling of various nocturnal beasts. All the same, Alan couldn't help feeling a great sense of apprehension, as if something was constantly watching them out of the shadows. It was as if the very ground itself objected to their presence.

Eventually, the group reached the boundaries of a vast forest, the trees clustered so tightly together that at first Alan thought they were all growing out of a single body rather than being separate. The trees loomed over him, their silhouettes looking very uninviting.

"Wonderful..." he muttered. "More trees..."

"Better watch for any overgrown smurfs in there," Alistair chimed in, smirking. He looked to either side of him. "It looks too large to walk around, and we can't really bring Bishop down here just to give us a lift. I guess we've gotta go straight through."

"What I wouldn't give for a chainsaw right now," Alan sighed. He, Alistair and Rachel carefully stepped into the forest. As they stepped through the inky blackness of the forest, the treetops closed in together, cutting off any and all light from the sky. The group tripped on the twisting tree roots several times, and as they got deeper inside shuffling noises could be heard all around them. A few times, Alan was sure that he could see a pair of glowing eyes peering out of the darkness. Even with his reptilian eyes, which could usually let him see fine in the dark, he was having trouble navigating through the blackness. Alistair did not bother with a flashlight, for gargoyles also had low-light vision, but he too struggled. Even with the light from Rachel's flashlight they struggled to see more than a few inches ahead of them.

After several minutes, in which the group almost got separated several times, they came to a large clearing in the midst of the trees. In spite of this clearing, the branches of the trees were still so clustered together that very little moonlight could be seen. As Alan stepped further towards the middle of the clearing, he suddenly heard a snapping sound coming from the trees on his left. Spinning around, he pulled out his revolver and aimed into the trees, but there was nothing to be seen in the inky blackness.

"Probably just some critter," Alistair shrugged, looking at the same spot. Alan wasn't so sure, but he reasoned that he would not be daft enough to go investigating a strange noise on an alien planet. So he turned to face the others, lowering his gun.

"Well, we've done enough arsing around," he said. "Let's just get-"

He was cut off as Alistair had spotted something moving in the trees behind Alan. The bushes twitched for a mere moment, but the gargoyle's gut instinct told him that Alan was in serious danger. So he had charged forward and thrown Alan to the floor, just as something came zooming out of the trees straight towards him. He didn't have time to register what it looked like, though whatever it was it was small as Alistair ducked and it zoomed right over his head. Rachel ducked too, thinking that this projectile would come straight at her, but before it could reach her it suddenly doubled back like a boomerang, coming straight back at Alistair again.

"Look out!" Rachel shouted. Alistair turned and, eyes widening in panic, he moved to duck again. However, this time he was not so lucky, and whatever this thing was it was proven to be very sharp, for as it shot past it left a deep cut in his shoulder.

"Fucking hell!" he shouted, seething in pain. He saw the strange, spinning projectile go zooming back to its point of origin somewhere in the midst of the treetops. Even in the midst of his pain, he gave a satisfied smirk.

"Gotcha," he snarled. He lifted both of the plasma rifles and fired in the direction the unidentified flying object had gone. The bursts of white-hot plasma fire lit up the surrounding forest, even disintegrating some of the branches caught in the line of fire. There was a grunting noise and something suddenly jumped out of the trees to escape the deadly plasma fire. It rolled over onto the grass and struggled to get back on its feet, winded by the fall.

After laying still for a moment, in shock at Alistair's sudden actions, Alan rolled over to see who the attacker was. In spite of the gloom, he could clearly see that the figure was a human male, of a muscular build and with long black hair, dressed in brown trousers with a white shirt and what looked like hiking boots. A fedora hat lay on the grass close by, presumably having fallen off his head. Strapped to his back was a backpack and what looked like a large rifle, while in one hand he held what looked like a golden throwing star, with a red jewel in the centre and five points ending in extremely sharp-looking blades.

The figure grimaced as it raised the throwing star again, but Alan was ready this time. He grabbed his Technomantic whip from its holster and lashed out, the nanowire line striking the hand holding the star. The attacker cried out in pain as it dropped the throwing star. Seizing the opportunity, all three crew members trained their guns on him.

"That's enough of that for one evening," Alan snarled. "Is that any way to greet off-worlders?"

"Uh, Alan," Alistair said, "you sure he can even understand you? Not every human out there speaks English, you know; I didn't even know you could find humans native to alien planets."

"Of course I understand you, beast!" the attacker responded in an irritable tone. He shuffled over to retrieve his hat and placed it back on his head. "If anything, it is _you_ should not be able to talk!" He turned a venomous gaze over to Rachel. "And what are you doing in the company of these creatures? Are you another thrall of Maletoth's?"

"Wha?" Rachel grunted, looking confused. "Do any of you have any idea what he's babbling about?"

"Beats me," Alan shrugged. "They obviously don't get many visitors here."

"By the gods..." the attacker was muttering, with a look of utter incredulity. "What nonsense you speak..."

Alan sighed. If he had known that he would have trouble with the locals everywhere that he went, he might not have been so eager to explore alien planets. He lowered his gun and tried to approach the attacker, who only struggled to back away from him as if frightened that Alan would spread some kind of disease to him.

"Listen, mate," Alan said, reassuringly, "I think we all got off on the wrong foot. You can't have discovered space travel yet, so let me just-"

"Silence!" the man shouted. "Do not confound me with your tongue! This has to be some new trick by Maletoth; it must be!"

"Will you listen for a minute?" Alan spat, starting to get annoyed by the stranger's behaviour. "I've never even heard of this Maletoth bloke, let alone work for him. All we want to know is-"

He was interrupted again by a loud, guttural shriek, coming from somewhere in the trees. The three _Serenity_ crew members aimed their guns into the trees, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise, but the horrible shrieking, jeering noises seemed to be coming from all around them. There was a loud rustling sound and the branches of the trees shook overhead. The noise was almost indescribable to Alan's ears, a series of loud inhuman wails mixed with horribly-distorted animal calls.

As the sounds got louder, something suddenly jumped out of the shadows from between the trees. To Alan it resembled some kind of humanoid insect; it walked on two spindly legs, with a green exoskeleton, a long beak-like face and huge scythes where the hands should have been. Even as the grotesque creature roared at them, showing a gaping maw filled with razor-sharp teeth, other creatures began bursting out of the trees, surrounding and charging straight at the _Serenity_ crew and their guest.

It seemed immediately apparent that there was no reasoning with such creatures, so Alan quickly activated his whip's Technomantic properties and attacked, the nanowire now bathed in crackling plasma energy as it cut down the first creature to attack. As the army of monsters attacked, Alan barely had time to take in the bizarre, horrifying sight of the creatures. As well as the insect-men, there were giant bats, huge insects, boar-men wielding large hammers, and strange beings with what looked like tentacles growing out of their faces. Some of the creatures seemed to consist of nothing but sharp teeth in huge mouths, while others were too bizarre for Alan to think of an adequate description. He was sure that such creatures could not possibly exist, breaking all known laws of biology.

They came at the group in a seemingly-endless tide, no matter how many were cut down by the whip or the streams of plasma fire from Alistair's rifles. The stranger who had attacked Alan was now fighting the creatures with an indescribable fury, striking them down with the bladed throwing star, and sometimes even fighting hand-to-hand. He fought like a man possessed, showing reflexes and strength beyond that of any ordinary human being. As they fought, Alan thought he could see a peculiar ruby-red tint to his eyes.

"This isn't getting us anywhere!" Alistair called, as he cut down a huge, headless being with a gaping maw where the neck should be. "Anyone got any bright ideas?"

"Follow me!" the stranger bellowed. He had been able to make a gap in the waves of attacking enemies, and was now making a dash for the trees. The others saw no sense in arguing, and immediately ran after him. They fired behind them as they ran, cutting down the pursuing monsters and almost tripping over the large tree roots. Rachel in-particular found it hard to keep up, almost unable to see anything in the darkness. As they ran, the horrible, blood-curdling shrieks of the creatures seemed to be coming from all around them.

Eventually the trees began to thin out once again, and at last all four of the group escaped from the forest and found themselves in the open air once again. Away from the trees, a strong breeze could now be felt, the cold night air stinging them. The mountains now seemed to loom closer than before, but to the east (at least Alan assumed it was the east) the faint glow of the rising sun could be seen. Alan and Rachel both doubled over panting, both of them exhausted from the run.

"I don't see how we're any safer out here..." Alan gasped, struggling to get his breath back.

"They won't follow us beyond the forest," the stranger said. "Beasts are very territorial; Maletoth likes to keep them confined to certain areas, designating control of that territory them."

"I'll make a quick sweep of the area," Alistair said, "just to be on the safe side." With that, the gargoyle flapped his immense leather wings a couple of times and rose up into the air. A gargoyle's wing muscles were not strong enough to allow them to truly fly, but they could still glide on air currents; if it had not been so breezy that night, Alistair would have needed to drop from an elevated area before he could begin to glide. Riding the updraft he rose into the air and swooped off back towards the tops of the trees. Alan, meanwhile, attended to Rachel, who was clutching a stitch in her side.

"Is this kind of thing normal," she asked, sounding amused, "on an away mission?"

"Pretty much," Alan replied, smirking. "I swear I hardly see what happens on an alien planet; there always seems to be something wanting to kill me."

"Must be your deodorant," Rachel said, allowing herself a slight chuckle. Alan couldn't help but wonder if there was anything in the entire galaxy that could shake Rachel's cheerful disposition. Meanwhile, the stranger approached them with a concerned look.

"Are you both alright?" he asked. The throwing-star weapon was now clipped to his belt, the blades retracted. Alan couldn't help being wary of it though; with the force which this man threw the weapon, the blades could probably decapitate someone.

"You changed your tune," Alan said, harshly. "Weren't you trying to kill us a few minutes ago?"

"I apologise for my actions before," the stranger said. "That was before I learned that, in spite of your appearance, you are not in fact a Beast. Maletoth does not let his Beasts attack other Beasts. They cannot normally speak the human tongues either."

"Look, mate," Alan said, "I'm glad you've had some sense knocked into you, but who are you anyway? How much do you know about those things?"

"My name is Aarbron," the stranger replied, giving a small bow, "and I know everything."


	3. Subterranea

**Subterranea**

This planet had never known a name given by the natives, but its recent history was one of darkness and despair. Over thirty years ago, the world had been dedicated to the pursuits of both science and sorcery, with both existing in harmony to usher in a new golden age for humanity. There were all manner of bizarre creatures on this world even then, but nothing that could not be managed with careful hunting.

That all changed with Maletoth's invasion. Most records of the sorcerer's life were lost to time, but at some point he became maddened by his pursuit of power, and sought to dominate all life on the planet. His dark magic corrupted and mutated the wildlife, turning them into the first generation of Beasts that would become his army. These creatures ravaged the human settlements, the population being either killed or kidnapped. Those that were kidnapped would come to envy the dead, for they were either sacrificed to fuel Maletoth's dark powers, or infused with said powers and transformed into hideous Beasts themselves, under Maletoth's control. The human kingdoms were powerless against Maletoth's army, the technological marvels that had been created had become lost, and the land itself became corrupted by the malignant powers. The survivors faced a dark age, without law and without order, living in constant fear of the marauding Beasts.

Children were Maletoth's favourites to convert, for their young minds were more impressionable and susceptible to corruption by his evil. It was one of his perverted pleasures to convert a child into a Beast servant at a young age, and watch them live their entire lives in his servitude. Aarbron was one such child, snatched away from his family when he was barely old enough to walk, and transformed into a monstrous Beast warrior. He carried out his duties as a good, obedient servant for over twenty years, every trace of his identity forgotten.

That was until he looked into the eyes of his father. It was supposed to be a sacrifice just like any other. Aarbron, who had been watching the ritual sacrifices that day, saw a man shackled to the altar, and the sight of him awakened something in his mind, like dim and distant memories which were not his own. Perplexed, he had approached the sacrifice, and peered intently at the face of the man about to be slaughtered. They gazed at each other for a full minute, defiance lining every feature of the victim's face, an expression which Aarbron knew he had seen somewhere before. Then the sacrificial knife plunged into the victim's chest, and Aarbron realised with horror that the figure being murdered right in front of his eyes was his father.

His memories of his all-too-brief human childhood crashed into him like a tidal wave. His father had taken his family to all corners of the continent, trying to keep them safe from Maletoth's forces. Now finally Maletoth had caught up to him, decades after stealing his son from him. As Aarbron stormed out of the temple, his anguish gave way to a hatred that coursed through his veins like poison; he vowed there and then to rid this world of every last trace of Maletoth's evil. Thus he had become a one-Beast army, destroying a large portion of the Beast armies, including some of Maletoth's most powerful priests and lieutenants, wherever he travelled. As he fought, he felt Maletoth's influence gradually being purged from him, restoring his humanity little by little.

However, both Maletoth and his most powerful priest, Zelek, eluded him. In revenge, Maletoth sought out Aarbron's surviving family and destroyed the ramshackle house they were using as a hiding place. He kidnapped Aarbron's baby sister and badly injured his mother, intending to use the child to take Aarbron's place by his side. Aarbron journeyed to the distant continent of Karamoon, braving many dangers, not stopping until Zelek was dead and his sister was safely in his arms. The gods must have been smiling on him that day, for he was rewarded with his human body for his troubles.

Though much of the Beast-Lord's evil influence was destroyed, there was still one more loose end to be tied, and Aarbron found himself approached in his dreams by Rekann, a sorcerer who had served in the king's court in the days before the Age of Shadows, as some had come to call it. Maletoth had imprisoned him in an unbreakable Cage of Constraint, but Zelek's death had weakened his prison enough to allow him to contact Aarbron. With his help, Aarbron was able to construct a powerful magical weapon known as the Glaive – the five-pointed throwing star which Aarbron still used today – and used it to hunt down and finally destroy Maletoth once and for all.

It had now been one year since Maletoth's death, and as Aarbron related his tale to Alan and Rachel he couldn't help dwelling on what might have been had Maletoth never existed. He could not help but wonder what it was exactly that drove the sorcerer out of his mind, but he shook such thoughts out of his head. Maletoth had stolen so much of his life, and that was something he could not change. It was better to focus on the here and now, and right now he didn't know what to make of these strangers who claimed to be from another world.

"I don't get it," Alan said, after Aarbron had finished recounting his history. "You said just now that you'd killed this Maletoth person. Why were you ranting on about him earlier?" Aarbron turned away from Alan for a moment and sighed, gazing out towards the horizon.

"I have reason to believe that his cult is returning," he said. "Maletoth still had powerful followers, and I have wondered whether they were all truly dead. For some length of time now there have been strange disappearances from the towns and villages. You have also seen for yourself the resurgence of the Beasts in this world. It has become increasingly clear to me that Maletoth's power has not been eradicated, as I had hoped. His surviving followers must be preparing for an invasion, and I will not allow such a thing to happen."

There was silence for a few moments while Alan mentally evaluated Aarbron. It was clear that the man was deeply committed to the task of fighting the monsters on this planet. However, Alan couldn't help but wonder if Aarbron's experiences with Maletoth's forces would end up clouding his judgement, like Captain Ahab hunting the whale which crippled him. He had a vague recollection of saying such a thing to Kiryuu Knight hundreds of years ago about his pursuit of the hydra demon known as King Ghidorah. He was also sure that he had not imagined the faint red tint that he had seen in Aarbron's eyes during the fight in the woods. It was apparent that he would have to keep a close eye on their guide. It was then that Alistair came swooping back to the group, landing on the grass between them.

"We've not been followed," he said. "They're not eager to leave that forest of theirs." He turned to look at Aarbron. "So I guess you've mellowed out then?"

"I'm still not sure what to think of you or your friend," Aarbron said, cautiously. "I have already apologised for my actions before, but you must admit that your appearances would lead anyone else to the same conclusion."

"Not on our planet, mate," Alistair said. "People are too used to seeing non-humans to care." He chuckled slightly, but apparently Aarbron didn't find it so funny, and just returned a stony stare. Shrugging, Alistair turned to Alan. "So what'd I miss, Captain?" he asked.

"Well, Aarbron here," Alan said, "just got finished telling us his story and why he attacks non-humans. They aren't quite as friendly here as they are on Earth or in the fleet."

"Ain't that always the way, though?" Alistair replied, shrugging. "Too bad José isn't around; he'd probably be overjoyed to find aliens he can actually shoot." Aarbron just shook his head; he was becoming more and more convinced that these beings he had encountered were not paying attention to just how serious this situation was. He was wasting time and he needed to be getting on with his task, with or without the help of these beings.

"There's something else," Aarbron continued. "Recently the only child of a close friend of mine was snatched by Beasts a few hours ago. I have been on their trail, and I am sure I know where the main base is where they are holding her. I am positive that she has been taken to be transformed into a Beast. I will not allow any child to suffer the same fate as I, and I promised my friend that I would bring her back home."

"Jesus..." Rachel muttered. She had an odd look on her face, and had used the same look when Aarbron had been speaking about his too-short childhood. It was one of disbelief mingled with a kind of silent fury, something which seemed completely alien to the usually-cheerful engineer. Alan wondered if she shared the same feelings he had; that anybody who hurt children did not deserve to live.

"Captain," Rachel then said, looking pleadingly at Alan. "We've got to help find this child. We can't just leave the poor kid in the hands of those monsters!"

"I agree, Rachel," Alistair said, looking uneasy, "but we've still got a job to do. You know the scanners on the _Serenity_ aren't strong enough for Bishop to do the job by himself, otherwise we wouldn't be down here."

"I'm sure Telek can look after himself!" Rachel spluttered. "This is a child we're talking about here! We've got to do something for the poor little mite!"

Alan was torn for a moment. On the one hand, Alistair had a good point in that they were wasting time in their search for Telek. On the other hand, he knew that Rachel was right; they couldn't leave an innocent child at the mercy of the creatures they saw earlier. In the end, he turned back to Aarbron and nodded.

"If you'll let us," he said, "we'll help you get the kid back. You can trust us."

"Trust?" Aarbron asked, raising an eyebrow. "I don't even know your names."

As the sky began to turn a shade of red with the glow of impending sunrise, the crew quickly made their introductions and gave a very brief account of what had brought them to this planet. Aarbron seemed astounded that Earth could have its own 'beasts' that had free will, even living alongside humans, and he was particularly fascinated by the idea of space travel.

"So your people can fly amongst the stars," he asked, "like we fly through the sky in planes and zeppelins?"

"If you want to put it like that," Alan shrugged. "It's more trouble than it's worth sometimes, though."

"To think..." Aarbron said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Perhaps if Maletoth had never surfaced, we would be sailing through the heavens. We were fortunate that not all of our technological advancements were lost in the cataclysm, yet we still faced the days before technology once again." He looked up into the sky with a wistful look. "When I first broke free of Maletoth's shackles, I saw zeppelins flying overhead. I realised then that human civilisation still survived somewhere in the world, in defiance of the Beast-Lord's will. That helped to give me the strength to keep fighting."

"Well, I dunno about you," Alistair groaned, "but I ain't going to be doing much fighting for a while." He turned to face the sun, which was now starting to fully rise over the horizon. He turned back to the others, hunching over and onto his knees. "I'll see you at sundown, Captain."

"I don't understand," Aarbron began. "What does he-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence, only gasping as the gargoyle's green skin began to turn grey. The rest of his features, his clothes, and even his weapons were changing into the same slate-grey colour. Within mere seconds, Alistair became a stiff, immobile statue; if one did not know better, they would claim that such a sculpture was not actually a living creature. Aarbron stared at the Alistair statue with wide eyes.

"So he is cursed?" he asked, feebly.

"Not really," Alan shrugged. "Turning to stone in daylight hours is as natural to a gargoyle as breathing. It lets them heal up and disguises them as well. If you saw this on top of a church or a castle, you wouldn't look twice at them."

"Can we not smash the shell and release him from his slumber now?" Aarbron asked urgently.

"No," Alan replied forcefully. "It doesn't work like that. He's completely stone now; he's not just encased in some shell. If we smash him now, we'll end up killing him. He'll be stuck like this until tonight." He sighed, looking apologetic. "I'm sorry, Aarbron, but I can't leave him out here unguarded, not while those monsters are still running loose. Looks like you're on your own after all."

"No," Rachel suddenly said, in a surprisingly firm tone. Alan looked at her, clearly surprised when she moved to stand next to Aarbron. "I'm still going with him, Captain. I'm not leaving without knowing that poor baby is safe." She sounded surprisingly resolute; it seemed this kidnapped child business had really affected her on a personal level. Alan wondered if it was some kind of maternal instinct kicking in.

"This will be very dangerous, miss," Aarbron spluttered. "Are you quite sure you want to do this? I mean, I don't want to see a woman get hurt."

"Of course I'm sure!" Rachel said, indignantly. "I don't know what they make the women on this planet out of, but we're made of sterner stuff on Earth! Now are we going to go help this kid or not?" Aarbron looked over to Alan, apparently expecting him to object or command her to stand down. However, Alan knew better than to try such a thing; he had to show that he could trust his crew if he was to gain their trust, and so he nodded at Rachel. The engineer nodded appreciatively.

"I'm trusting you with my crew, Aarbron," Alan said. "You'd better bring her back safely. I'll stay here and keep an eye on Alistair. We'll track you through Rachel's commlink and follow as soon as we can."

"The days do not last long in this season," Aarbron said. "However, it will still be several hours before sunset. Let me give you some rations." He removed his backpack from his shoulders and proceeded to remove several tightly-wrapped parcels from its interior, tossing them to Alan.

"I particularly recommend the Veekul meat," Aarbron continued, pointing at one of the packages. "We must hurry; with any luck we will reach their sanctuary before sundown."

With that, both Aarbron and Rachel took off, running across the plain as fast as their legs could carry them. Alan watched them go, hoping against hope that everything would work out somehow. He only hoped that he was leaving Rachel in trustworthy hands. Feeling peckish, he decided to try some of the meat that Aarbron had mentioned, only to spit it out again; there was an odd taste to this alien meat, like chicken mixed with rubber tyres.

0

Alan wasn't sure how much time had passed since Rachel and Aarbron had departed, but he estimated that it had been about an hour. He had received no word from Rachel via her commlink; he had tried to contact her instead, only to receive the same answer of "No news" every time. He leaned backwards, feeling rather sleepy in the sunshine, smiling slightly. Rachel must have been hoping that Alan hadn't noticed the way she had been looking at Aarbron; it was the look of a school-girl crush, a longing look that she did her best to hide whenever somebody looked at her. He was sure that she had been quick to volunteer just to get some time alone with the native explorer; he just hoped that she wasn't getting in over her head.

For some time, nothing approached the spot where Alistair stood, peering out across the plain with stone eyes. Even while frozen, his statue still gave Alan the impression of being alive; any casual observer would merely say that it was a work of exquisite craftsmanship. As Alan entertained that idea, he busied himself by studying the notes left for him by Kiryuu Knight. They were incredibly well-detailed, built up from Kiryuu's own centuries worth of experience on strategy, data analysis and combat tactics. There was even a whole chapter on magical and Technomantic theory, figured out from various loose hints that contacts such as Manda and Malcho had dropped over the years. Alan had decided to look at these notes more carefully, especially since – as Cujo had pointed out - now that he was Captain of his own spaceship he would need to know such things. Up until this point, he had felt that he only needed to hit things and think about hitting things.

Not long after he had started reading, however, he heard a noise coming from somewhere in the distance. It started faint, but within seconds it had become louder. It was a loud, angry buzzing sound, like that of a swarm of insects. Vividly remembering the events of the night, Alan sprang to his feet and looked around him. Now that a fight seemed inevitable, he really wasn't sure how he was going to fend off a group of those Beasts without damaging Alistair. It occurred to him that he really hadn't thought this plan through; he was sure that Kiryuu would be laughing at him with that high-and-mighty chuckle of his.

As the buzzing grew louder, Alan realised that it was coming from somewhere above him. Looking up and towards the east, he saw what looked like a large dark cloud moving swiftly towards him. As it got closer, Alan was soon able to see that it was in fact a swarm of giant wasps, larger than bears, zooming through the sky. They had to have been an incredible distance away when Alan had first heard them, and now their buzzing was loud enough to drown out his thoughts.

Alan felt a paralysing chill run through him. Centuries ago, back when he was a child he had been allergic to wasp stings; he was once stung on the neck and had ended up in hospital for a week. While a rational part of him tried to reassure him that, thanks to Organiser G-1, allergies were no longer an issue, he was still deathly afraid of them even to this day. Seeing such huge wasps was like all of his worst nightmares had suddenly come to life at once.

Within seconds the swarm was directly overhead, and they suddenly began to zip all around the small area, forming what appeared to be a moving, buzzing cage with Alan and Alistair trapped inside. Every now and then one of the wasps would suddenly swoop out of the living wall and dive at Alan, forcing him to dive to the ground, the wasp missing him by inches. Alan tried to raise his gun and fire a way out, but the swarm was relentless and every time he raised his weapons he was forced to dive again as a wasp launched itself at him. He could not hope to get a clear shot without the risk of hitting Alistair, and in many ways Alan could not help but envy him in that he didn't have to witness any of this.

As he tried to pull himself to his feet again, Alan saw that other creatures had descended into the living cage. Three strange winged creatures, like the common portrayal of devils or imps, were now in the midst of the swarm and surrounding Alistair. They spoke to each other in strange, chirruping tones, and one of them barked loudly as if giving orders. They took positions around Alistair, firmly gripping his frozen arms and legs, and as Alan watched they suddenly flapped their wings and began to lift the statue off the ground.

In a panic, Alan tried to run towards the imps and stop them, when something suddenly dropped on him from behind and slammed him to the ground. Spitting grass out of his mouth, he then felt a horrible lurching sensation and the ground accelerated away from him. As he rose higher, the wasp swarm scattered, the deadly insects zooming off in all directions. Looking upwards, the wind stinging his face, Alan saw that another of the imp creatures had grabbed his shoulders, and was now carrying him alongside its fellows carrying Alistair between them. The red-skinned imp was staring straight ahead, with a crooked sneer playing across its pointed, disfigured face.

Whether or not it was working for Maletoth, Alan was convinced that he would rather be somewhere other than wherever this creature was taking him. He struggled violently, swinging and wriggling in various directions, and he didn't dare to look down. The imp's grip was firm, but after a half-minute Alan was able to wrench his arm free and pull his gun out of its holster. He fired a shot straight at the creature's chest, causing it to howl in agony and release him from its grasp.

As he began to fall, a wave of guilt washed over Alan when he realised that he could not hope to save Alistair now; trying to do so would end up with him getting smashed. He could only hope that he would get an opportunity to mount a rescue quickly. However, when he looked down and saw that he was now falling very rapidly, from a great height, towards the treetops of another forest, he began to realise that he had not really thought this escape plan through.

0

Alan's capture had not gone unobserved, for the imps carrying their prisoners had flown right over Aarbron and Rachel as they continued to make their way across the plain. They had pursued the escaping creatures as quickly as they could, but ultimately they could not hope to catch up with them, and shooting them down was too risky. Apparently that did not bother Alan, for they had seen him shoot at the creature holding him and fall towards the forest in front of them. He struck a tree on his way down, which they hoped would break his fall, even if it was not a soft landing.

Fearing the worst, Rachel and Aarbron dashed into the midst of the trees, trying to pinpoint where Alan had fallen, calling his name desperately. A few minutes later they came across the tree which Alan had struck; looking up, they saw that some of the thinner branches had broken. However, the mutant was nowhere to be seen, neither in the branches of the tree nor on the ground.

"He must have fallen between the roots," Aarbron speculated, pointing to a large gap between the tree's enormous roots, large enough for a man to fit through. "There are miles of tunnels down there beneath the surface."

Before Rachel could say anything, he was already squeezing his way through the gap in the roots. She followed him, and found herself in a small, sharply-descending tunnel. She let out a loud yell as she slid downwards for what felt like half a mile before her feet slammed into the bottom. She tumbled over as the tunnel opened out into an enormous cavern, the huge roots of the trees above crossing each other and forming shapes like gothic arches. In spite of being underground, the area was well-lit, with torches sticking out of the earth floor every hundred yards or so. Even as Rachel was taking this sight in, Aarbron was pulling her to her feet. At first she thought a monster had grabbed her, so she lashed out and struck Aarbron's face.

"Rachel, calm down!" he said loudly, restraining her arm. "It's me!"

After a few seconds Rachel did manage to calm herself down. She now felt like her nerves were on a knife-edge, and she wondered why she talked herself into going on an away mission. At that moment she wanted to be back on the _Serenity_, surrounded by the familiar and friendly sights and sounds of the ship. Taking deep breaths to steady her nerves, she looked past Aarbron and saw Alan lying on the ground a few feet away.

"Oh, God!" she gasped, pulling herself free from Aarbron's grip. "Captain!" She rushed over to Alan's body and knelt down, pressing a finger to the hard scales on his neck. A pulse could be felt, and he was breathing, albeit very faintly. Like the rest of the crew, Rachel had been briefed on the nature of Alan's mutation, and she breathed a sigh of relief knowing that he would heal shortly. Aarbron, meanwhile, was glancing around him cautiously. He remembered these tunnels very well, and a horrible gut feeling told him that the group had to move away as quickly as possible.

"Miss Tam," he said urgently, "can we move him? We must be moving on as quickly as-"

He fell silent as a sudden violent quake ripped through the tunnel, shaking loose earth from the ceiling and almost knocking Aarbron and Rachel off their feet. The rumbling echoed everywhere inside the tunnel, making it difficult to tell where it was coming from, and the noise almost deafened the pair. Suddenly part of the ground behind Alan's body started to lift in a mound, before exploding as if a mine had gone off there and scattering loose mud all over them.

As it turned out, the mud hadn't been scattered by an explosion at all, but by something bursting through the floor. It was what looked like a large grey human hand, with sharpened nails and covered in an insect-like carapace. It had sprouted out of the floor of the tunnel like a grotesque plant, and it looked like it was rotting away in front of everyone's eyes. It suddenly lurched itself towards Alan's body, grabbing him and moving to drag him underground with it. However, Aarbron pulled out the Glaive and threw it, his arm remaining extended, and Rachel saw that the red glow had returned to his eyes. The throwing star shot through the air and cleaved its way neatly through the wrist. The hand crumbled away to dust, dropping Alan hard to the floor, while the stump of an arm shrank back beneath the ground. A high-pitched, ear-splitting shriek suddenly filled the tunnel, loud enough to almost deafen the two humans. Aarbron looked down the tunnel, now looking very worried.

"I was afraid of this..." he said, as the rumbling noises began once again. "The cult has become so powerful if they're able to create Alphas..."

"I'm gonna regret asking this," Rachel said nervously, "but what are Alphas?"

"Maletoth's lieutenants," Aarbron said quickly, trying to drown out the noise of the rumbling. "Very powerful Beasts that come in many monstrous forms. We must escape from here quickly!"

Rachel immediately wished that Aarbron had not said that, for all of a sudden more hands suddenly burst out of the ground behind them, blocking the tunnel. Aarbron pulled the large rifle off his back and threw it to Rachel, who caught it clumsily.

"Just point and shoot!" Aarbron shouted as another larger creature suddenly burst out of the ground from the other end of the tunnel. "Keep those creatures away from us!"

Rachel didn't need telling twice. Though her hands shook, she aimed as best she could at one of the hands, which was already reaching towards her, and pulled the trigger. The gun nearly flew out of her hands as she fired, and the bullets tore through the hand-creature's armour. Even in the midst of her panic, she wondered if the hands were somehow part of a larger creature; she was now hearing very definite grunts of pain each time she hit an arm coming from somewhere behind her. She tried to turn, but Aarbron suddenly called out to her.

"Don't turn around!" he shouted. "Just keep those arms off my back!"

Perhaps it was fortunate that Rachel had heeded that advice and concentrated on the arms, for if she had turned around and seen the monstrosity that Aarbron was facing down she might have passed out on the spot. The Alpha, as it turned out, was a large, insect-like creature, wide enough to fill the tunnel (Bishop would later theorise that the tunnels were actually the Alpha's bore-holes). It was too large to see the entirety of the creature, but its bone-like grey chitin covered every surface of the skeleton-like skin, and an untold number of scythe-like arms extended everywhere. More unsettling was the sight of two leering human skulls on the top, the dead eyes peering at the humans with a vivid ruby-red glow. No rational mind would have been able to picture this creature without seeing it for themselves.

Aarbron gritted his teeth; he remembered fighting an Alpha similar to this before, back in the darker days. Behind him he could hear Rachel taking pot-shots at any of the arms that tried to reach out to her, Alan, or himself. He was impressed that this woman had any knowledge of combat; the old laws on this planet had prohibited women from combat training, something he had felt was an oversight. However, it was clear that her skills would not be enough to hold off the arms; she was clearly more of a thinker than a fighter, and he knew he had to finish this fight quickly, even if he risked his own damnation in the process.

The Alpha let out a high-pitched, monstrous shriek and swung its scythe-like blade erratically, and Aarbron had to dive to the side to avoid having his head chopped off. Behind him, he heard Rachel suddenly scream; her curiosity had gotten the better of her, and she had turned around to see what was making that unholy wail. Unseen by him, however, Alan had awakened with a start; though his eyes were still closed, he had sat bolt upright, using a claw to nurse his head as if he had a bad headache.

"Wasps..." he muttered. "Why the bloody hell did it have to be wasps?"

As he regained the use of his senses and saw what was going on around him, his eyes widened in disbelief. Aarbron had dodged the Alpha's blow and was now readying himself. He had difficulty defeating this creature before, but back then of course he didn't have the Glaive. He pulled it from its belt holster and extended the sharp blades. He grimaced and his brows furrowed as both his eyes and the jewel in the centre of the Glaive started to glow with a blood-red light.

With all the strength he could muster, he threw the shuriken towards the Alpha. The monster raised a scythe-arm to try and swat it out of the air, but the Glaive suddenly dived out of its way and continued speeding towards it. Aarbron's wrist and fingers twitched, his arm extended, and the Glaive responded with every slight movement, as if he was guiding it by an invisible remote control. It sped past the flailing limbs and struck the Alpha's enormous bulk, spinning so fast that it actually dug its way into the flesh. A monstrous roar filled the cavern as the Alpha felt what must have been unspeakable levels of agony, as Aarbron continued to move his hand, somehow guiding the Glaive around the creature's insides. The grey hands behind him began flailing erratically, and one of them tried to reach out and flatten Aarbron, but Rachel fired her gun several times, causing the arm to flinch in pain and withdraw.

As the _Serenity_ crew watched, the nauseating thought entered their heads that the Alpha's insides were being shredded into jelly, as the agonising howls continued to resound up and down the tunnel. Whatever power Aarbron was using to control the Glaive, however, was clearly taking its toll on him; he was sweating profusely and snarling like an animal, the glow in his eyes becoming more intense. Whatever pain he was enduring, however, could not have been anything compared to what the Alpha was going through, as it was now bleeding profusely from various parts of its body; the blood was a thick black substance that reminded Alan of treacle. The body writhed in its agony, and suddenly the right-hand head seemed to explode from within, the shattered skull being scattered along the walls of the tunnel as the Glaive suddenly burst out from inside it and flew back towards Aarbron. As the Alpha made a horrible gargling sound and collapsed to the floor, Aarbron fell with it, falling to his knees. The glow faded from his eyes and the Glaive and he panted heavily, completely exhausted, his face caked with sweat.

The silence only lasted a few seconds, for the Alpha started to draw in a long, rattling breath, and one of the arms began to raise itself again. Aarbron was exhausted, physically and mentally, and he knew that he would never be able to prepare himself in time. All of a sudden a large fireball exploded from behind him and to his side, bathing the tunnel in an intense glow as it shot towards the Alpha. It ignited the slavering remains on impact, the whole end of the tunnel bathed in a sea of fire, and seconds later the long death-rattle of the Alpha was silent, all parts of the body lying still.

Shocked, Aarbron looked behind to see Alan lying on the ground, pointing the still-smoking barrel of his Technomantic revolver at the Alpha's corpse. Aarbron was not unfamiliar with guns; he himself used his rifle on occasion. However, no gun he knew of on this world could shoot literal fireballs. Alan, meanwhile, was breathing hard, hardly daring to believe that such a creature could possibly exist. Even the bizarre sights he had seen after magic returned to Earth didn't hold a candle to this. Rachel too was silent, trying to steady her breathing. Aarbron moved towards Alan, offering a hand to help him to his feet, but the mutant suddenly turned his gun on him, shuffling away with a look of great anxiety.

"Captain?" Rachel said. "What's gotten into you?"

Alan didn't answer at first, but instead slowly got to his feet, trembling, his eyes never leaving Aarbron's. The human just looked utterly perplexed.

"I don't understand," he said politely. "What's prompted you to start threatening me? I defeated the Alpha, did I not?"

"Oh, don't play dumb," Alan snarled. "I saw those red eyes of yours. From my experience, red eyes are never a good sign. You're working with those things, aren't you?"

"Use the brains you were born with, Tyler," Aarbron grumbled. "If that was true, then why would I kill my own allies and superiors?" Alan looked away for a moment, now looking much less certain.

"Could be a clever ruse..." he muttered.

"Ruse or not," Aarbron said firmly, "I'm the only one who knows the path to our enemy's base. I'm sure I know where it is, judging by the direction the Beasts took your friend." When Alan still looked unconvinced he added, "I promise I will explain everything to you, but we're running out of time standing here arguing. If you want to save your friend you'll need my help."

Alan still wasn't sure. It seemed that almost everyone with red eyes he encountered turned out to want to kill him; King Ghidorah, Kaiser, Gigan and Demona had all been the same way. Part of him didn't want to believe that it was a grim coincidence, but the rational part of him remembered that Aarbron knew this world much better than he did. He had no choice but to trust him for the time-being if he was to save Alistair. So he lowered his gun, which led Rachel to breathe an audible sigh of relief. At this, Aarbron strolled past him, to the end of the tunnel not blocked by the Alpha's still-smoking carcass.

"Fortunately," he was saying, "these tunnels can act as a short-cut to the stronghold. With any luck, we can reach our destination before nightfall." With that, he headed further down the tunnel. Rachel lagged behind with Alan, looking concerned.

"You sure you're alright, Captain?" she asked. "That was a nasty fall you had back there."

"I'll be alright, Rachel," Alan said, in what he hoped was a reassuring tone. "It's Alistair I'm worried about. Keep an eye on Aarbron as well, just in case."

"Sure thing, boss," Rachel said, trying to bury her unease under a cheery demeanour. "Next time you fall from a dirty great height though, could you do us a favour and land on a nice, soft haystack?"


	4. Belly of the Beast

**Belly of the Beast**

For the next half an hour the trio wandered through the darkness of the underground tunnels. Though their path was lit by blazing lanterns every hundred feet or so, it was still difficult for the two humans to make out any details. The tree roots continued to intertwine overhead, forming patterns reminiscent of gothic archways. Every now and then Alan saw the monstrous skeleton of some long-dead alien creature, trapped within both the earth and the gnarled tree roots. There was a general feeling of melancholy in the tunnels, as if they formed a giant underground graveyard. They were also infested with Beasts like the ones encountered in the forest, but mercifully none of the group encountered another Alpha.

Eventually the group came across a stone shaft built into one of the earth walls. Going inside, it was a tight fit, and Alan could barely make out a set of iron rungs embedded into the bricks like a ladder. Looking upwards, the trio could see a faint point of light some distance above them. It occurred to Alan that they had to be at the bottom of an empty well. Upon seeing the sunlight, Aarbron's expression brightened.

"I told you I still knew my way through these tunnels!" he said.

"That's what you said when you led us down the last dead-end," Alan grumbled. Aarbron pretended that he hadn't heard as he crossed over to where the rungs were and began to climb. Alan and Rachel followed suit.

"This well comes out right by the fortress," Aarbron said. "Maletoth used them to send his Beasts down into the underground tunnels. They stretch all across the continent, and allowed those demons to catch the human settlements unawares."

"Obviously not a fan of a straight-up fight, then?" Alan replied. "Do you really think this Maletoth has anything to do with what's been happening here?"

"I'm positive," Aarbron replied. "His followers were truly fanatical, and I have little reason to suspect they have changed." He sighed as he resumed his climb. "In any case, we have no time to speculate."

"Good point," Alan muttered. After several more minutes of climbing the trio finally emerged in the sunshine. After the dankness of the underground tunnels, the open air smelled sweet to Alan. He turned around to see what was behind him, and his eyes widened in disbelief. The well the trio had climbed out of was stood in front of a gigantic cathedral, about the size of a large castle, its towering gothic spires reaching high into the heavens. The colossal structure looked like it had been constructed only recently, as the grey and black stone showed no signs of age. In spite of its size there were no visible windows, and the only way in seemed to be a great oak door. Aarbron shook his head sadly.

"I had hoped against hope that I would need to return here," he said. "Rekann told me that before the Age of Shadows this was a magnificent building, where people would go to pray to their gods. It's disgusting that Maletoth would poison and vandalise such a place to suit his own dark purposes." He started to run towards the building, trying to look more resolute. "We must go inside. I'm sure that what we seek is waiting for us inside."

"What makes you so sure?" Alan asked, running to catch up. He was starting to get suspicious of Aarbron; it seemed too good to be true that his hunch may just happen to be the right one.

"I'm familiar with these Beasts," Aarbron replied off-handedly, "and I know how to track them. Now come; there's not a moment to lose." Alan followed Aarbron, frowning at his back. There was something Aarbron wasn't telling him, and if there was one thing he hated it was being left in the dark on any subject that involved him personally. Even Rachel looked very uneasy as she ran to catch up to the other two heading towards the towering cathedral.

"We can't just knock on the door and ask them to let us in," Alan muttered. "You have some kind of plan, right?" He was half-afraid that the enemy, whoever they were, already knew that the group was here, especially since they were approaching the building in broad daylight. The lack of windows and obvious hiding places couldn't dispel his horrible gut feeling that they were being watched.

"I know what I'm looking for," Aarbron replied. Alan noticed that he was now running towards the side of the cathedral, now covered in the shadow of the afternoon sun. Working their way past the building, Alan then spotted a small door in the wall. He groaned a little as Aarbron approached it.

"That's your grand plan?" Alan asked. "To go in through the back door?"

"The simplest plans are often the best," Aarbron replied, as he pulled a rust-coloured key out of his pocket. "I used this entrance when I infiltrated the fortress over a year ago. I just hope they haven't changed the lock." Alan rolled his eyes in disbelief at this; for a great monster hunter, Aarbron certainly relied on luck. When the key managed to turn the lock and the door swung open, he started to get his first inkling of what was really happening here. The trio stepped through the doorway and into a pitch-black corridor. The only light was coming through the open doorway.

"Of course," Aarbron muttered, "back then I could more clearly see in the dark."

"Never mind that," Rachel sighed, pulling out her flashlight. Even with the aid of the beam of light, it was still difficult to see more than about fifteen feet ahead of them. The stone walls of the corridor were very smooth. There was no sign of life, not even the shuffling sounds of footsteps.

Soon the corridor opened out and the group found themselves in what looked like a vast dining hall. Whatever glory that the room had previously held had long been stripped out, for only a few old tables and long benches remained, some with the remains of meat scattered all over the woodwork. Rather disturbingly, the torsos still looked fresh, and all three gagged at the rotting smell that filled the room. As they looked around the rest of the room, they saw several giant statues lined against the walls, each depicting a grotesque Beast like the ones that had been witnessed to this point.

"So they defile this site once more..." Aarbron muttered. His expression was dark; Alan was sure that if a Beast had wandered into the room just then, Aarbron would have torn it limb from limb.

As they wandered deeper into the fortress, Alan saw that the walls around them were gradually changing the further they stepped. Instead of the smooth grey stonework, the walls were now gradually turning black, and instead of stone the walls now looked like they were made out of bone. Indeed, as he went further and further inside and looked around him, he got the distinct impression that they were wandering through the insides of some gigantic animal. After a few minutes of walking through the strange, ribcage-like hallways, Alan's mind began to play tricks on him, as he started to think that the walls were actually moving as if they were alive.

Aarbron led the way carefully through the fortress, a map of the structure committed to his memory. Horrible memories flooded his mind, though he did not remember the building being so empty the last time he was here. Perhaps the cult was not up to full strength yet; he hoped he could destroy them before they converted too many more people into Beasts. He stopped short of a doorway which he recognised as leading into the inner sanctum; he was sure that was where the child had been taken. There was a flickering light coming from inside; the first that they had seen anywhere in the monastery. He dreaded to think what would happen if they did not get her out of there fast.

"This is it," he said in a loud whisper to Alan and Rachel. "I'm sure this is the place."

"Aarbron," Alan replied forcefully, "we haven't seen a single guard in this entire place. You'd think their main base would be a lot more fortified. Has it occurred to you that this is an obvious trap? For that matter, for all I know you-" He had been about to accuse Aarbron of being a spy, but Aarbron moved a hand to silence him.

"Don't say it," he said, in a fierce tone. "Don't think I'm blind to how easy this has been. However, there are no other entrances into the sanctum. If they have set a trap for us in there, we have no choice but to walk into it, if we don't want to lose any chance of saving the child or your friend." He began to edge closer to the doorway, but motioned for Alan and Rachel not to follow. "I'm going in there. You two be ready to follow when I give the word."

Alan didn't like the sound of that plan, but he could not see any viable alternatives, short of going in first. He knew he could survive almost any trap that was thrown at him, but he had the feeling Aarbron would object and they had lost a lot of time already. Before he could even bring this up, however, Aarbron had stepped into the inner sanctum. The chamber was enormous, wider and longer than a football pitch. It was the only lighted room in the building, lined by flaming braziers on either side, but the lighting was still somewhat dim as the ceiling could not be clearly seen. Every surface was covered in that black, bone-like substance that seemed to swallow the light of the braziers, giving the impression of being inside a giant rib-cage.

Aarbron slowly pulled out the large repeating rifle slung on his back and stepped cautiously into the cavernous chamber. In the gloom he could just make out what looked like a stone altar set into the middle of the room, surrounded by a large circle of strange, archaic symbols faintly glowing with a soft purple light. On the altar itself he could just see a tiny human arm rising up out of a large stone bowl, waving about inquisitively.

Cautiously, Aarbron stepped further into the room, hardly daring to breath. When he was halfway between the door and the altar, there was a horrible sucking and creaking sound coming from all around him. Looking around, he saw that some of the ribbing on the walls was parting, and out of the gaps came floods of the hideous Beasts, surrounding him, snarling and gibbering. As they lurched towards him, Aarbron opened fire with the rifle, the rapid stream of bullets tearing apart any Beasts caught in the line of fire. However, for every Beast he gunned down, three more came out of the walls to replace it, and it was evident that he would soon be overwhelmed.

Alan, who had been watching the whole scene while crouched behind the door, decided that he was not going to wait around for Aarbron to ask to be rescued. He twisted the handle of the whip and let the line fall free. He had engaged the Technomantic mode, so now the whip crackled with vivid blue light like an energy sword. The Beasts charged at him, but none of them put up much of a fight, as Alan slashed them to ribbons with the whip. Very few of the Beasts actually seemed to possess intelligence; apparently they were banking on overwhelming the invaders with sheer numbers. Rachel ran too, taking the odd pot-shot at any Beasts that Alan missed.

"Keep them off my back!" Aarbron shouted, as he gunned down two more Beasts and made a dash straight for the altar. However, as he reached the glowing runes on the floor he was knocked back and collapsed to the floor, as if he had suddenly run into an invisible wall. Winded, he struggled to pick himself up as Alan gunned down two Beasts that tried to take advantage of Aarbron's situation.

"What the hell happened?" Alan called. Aarbron shook himself, and then took a quick look at the runes. He had studied various types of magic, feeling it best to know what he was up against in any situation, and he now recognised what incantation those runes belonged to.

"It's a damping seal!" he called back. "It keeps out anyone who has any magical ability! I can't get to the altar!"

Alan tried to get to the altar, but the Beasts were swarming him and he was struggling to fight them off, and in any case he wasn't sure if the barrier would allow him to cross with his Technomantic weaponry. Rachel, overhearing Aarbron's words, made her mind up on-the-spot; it seemed that she was the only one present without any magic powers, and she would be able to cross the seal. She immediately dashed through the waves of Beasts towards the altar, with a determined look in her eye. Aarbron, seeing what she was trying to do, looked horror-struck.

"Rachel, no!" he called, but if Rachel had heard him she was pretending she hadn't. As she crossed the seal, she initially didn't notice that the glow of the runes became much more intense, and a loud humming sound could now be heard. She approached the stone altar and looked in. Inside a large stone bowl was a baby human girl, wrapped up in brown blankets. She smiled at Rachel when her wide eyes fell upon her.

"Hey there," Rachel said, in a comforting tone, as she lifted the smiling baby out of the bowl. "We've come to take you home." It was as she turned around and saw the glowing intensity of the runes when she first gained the notion that her plan may have backfired.

As she was about to risk it and try to cross the seal, there was a sudden loud roar coming from the darkness at the other end of the chamber. Rachel, Alan and Aarbron all froze to the spot, as did the Beasts. The monsters backed away slowly, forming a wide circle around the intruders and the seal. Alan was now starting to grow nervous; evidently they were about to meet the leader of these monsters.

It was then that loud footfalls could be heard, echoing around the chamber. As Alan peered towards the other end of the room, he saw a large shape stepping out of the shadows. As it got closer, all three now saw that it was a dragon, covered in fiery red scales and with blazing red eyes. Alan noticed that it was a lot smaller than other dragons he had encountered; about thirty feet tall, if he had to guess. It peered around the chamber with a nasty sneer on its face, which widened when its eyes fell on Aarbron, who was glaring at the creature through narrowed eyes.

"_Welcome home, Aarbron,"_ the dragon rumbled, in a deep, rattling voice, the crooked sneer becoming a nasty grin.

"Ishran..." Aarbron snarled. "I thought you had died on Karamoon!" At this remark, the dragon known as Ishran suddenly burst out laughing.

"_Did you honestly think you could bring a dragon down with a ball and chain?"_ he gloated. _"Though I have to admit that you gave me a harder fight than I gave you credit for. I faked my death, so that I could be sure that if, as unlikely as it sounded, Maletoth and his champions would fall, then one would survive to carry on his great work."_ He looked all around him at the army of hideous Beasts that surrounded the group, while Alan looked over at Aarbron suspiciously.

"What did he mean by 'Welcome home'?" he demanded. "I was right all along, wasn't I? You're one of them, aren't you?" Ishran laughed once again.

"_No need to blame him, my dear Beast,"_ he said. _"He's completely innocent. He honestly thought he could wield the powers of the Far Realm without feeling the call of the Beast once again. Did you not wonder how he was able to locate this fortress so easily, or even know where to look? He has been called back here, without realising it."_ At this, Aarbron looked at Alan, with an expression of the deepest shame.

"Time you gave me that explanation you owe us," Alan demanded. Aarbron sighed.

"The blood of the Beast has never truly left my veins," he said. "I do not understand why; I truly believed that Maletoth's power would die with him. Rekann taught me to channel and control this power. The Glaive was created using that same magic, and Rekann taught me how to use that power to move it with a mere thought." He looked away for a moment, eyes closed. "Every time I tap into that power, I risk succumbing to it, and losing my mind to the Beast that longs to escape. I am irreversibly bonded to the Beasts. I can sense their presence, hear their whispered thoughts trying to poison my mind. It's all I can do to retain my own presence of mind. When the child was abducted, I could sense the growing presence of the Beasts in this fortress. I knew instantly where she would be taken. I had no idea that Ishran was behind it all."

"_His biggest crime is being addicted to the gift of the Beast,"_ Ishran sneered.

"I am nothing like you or your Beasts!" Aarbron barked. "I'll never follow Maletoth or anyone who supports him again!" Ishran just chuckled.

"_You'll see things my way soon enough,"_ he said. _"Right now, we have the little matter of your delightful friend. There are rules that now have to be followed, magical etiquette and so forth."_ He peered at Rachel with a hungry look in his eyes. _"You now have some choices to make, my dear. The child cannot leave the circle, unless you are willing to call yourself her champion and you defeat my own champion in single combat. Of course, you can leave the child here, and you can leave the circle without any harm to yourself. I might even spare you and your friends and let you leave with your lives and humanity intact."_

"Fuck that noise!" Alan shouted. While Ishran had been talking, he had been setting his Technomantic revolver to the shield-breaker mode, designed to destroy magical and Technomantic barriers. He swiftly raised the gun and fired at the space where the wall keeping Rachel in the circle would be, though it could not be seen with the naked eye. A gleaming burst of energy, like a large ball of electricity, blasted out of the gun, but then it suddenly rebounded as if it had struck a mirror. It went flying straight back at Alan and slammed into him. The mutant shook violently as if having a seizure for a few seconds, his eyes rolling into his head as he felt as if every nerve in his body was on fire. He collapsed to the floor and lay there, gasping.

"_Were you not paying attention, you silly Beast?"_ Ishran chuckled, as Aarbron helped the still-shaking Alan back to his feet. _"There are rules that have to be followed."_ He turned to look back at Rachel, who had witnessed the whole spectacle, horrified. _"So what will it be, my dear? Risk death trying to save the child, or turn around and go on your merry way?"_

It was a no-win situation. Rachel didn't want to leave without the baby, who was now crying in her arms. She tried to soothe it and clear her own head. She was sure that she had no chance against whatever monster Ishran had created for her, but she knew that she would never forgive herself if she left this child to the mercy of the Beasts without trying to do something. So she made her mind up, setting the baby down carefully close to the barrier. She glared back at Ishran with a defiant gaze, determined to go down swinging.

"Let's get it done, you overgrown gecko!" she shouted, in what she hoped was a brave voice.

"Rachel, no!" Alan called. He had hoped and prayed that Rachel would walk away from a fight that she could not win, and was now looking at her horrified. If one of his crew died he would be torturing himself with that fact for the rest of his life. He tried to struggle out of Aarbron's grasp, and yelled at Ishran. "If you've gotta do this, let me fight!"

"It's no good," Aarbron said, trying to calm him down. "The rules cannot be broken now. Rachel has given her word, and she must fight."

"It's suicide!" Alan muttered, hoping that Rachel could not hear him. "She's brave, but she's not a fighter! A Beast would tear her to pieces!" Ishran, meanwhile, laughed once again.

"_So stubborn, you humans,"_ he chuckled. _"That's what makes you such good Beasts. I have a special surprise in store for you. I want you to meet the newest addition to our clan."_

Alan could now see a new, much smaller shape moving behind Ishran and coming quickly towards them, gliding on large wings. When he realised what it was his heart sank even further.

"No..." he muttered. "No, no, no, no, no, no..."

Rachel gave a loud gasp as her opponent swooped into the arena. She wanted to say something, but the words died in her throat, and a wave of weakness washed over her, causing her knees to buckle and she fell to the floor. She shook herself, not wanting to believe the sight in front of her.

Alistair was now stood in front of her, his eyes glowing with the tell-tale ruby light.


	5. Mind Over Matter

**Mind over Matter**

Ishran smiled a cruel smile as he looked between Rachel and Alistair. He took a lot of sick satisfaction from seeing the horrified, bewildered expressions of his new warrior's former companions. His champion was not quite ready yet; he had yet to fully embrace the blood of the Beast and still retained his free will, yet he could not resist the temptation of torturing the mortals by forcing them to fight one they called a friend. He saw that Alan was shaking his head, disbelief lining every part of his reptilian face. The despair that was welling up inside the mutant was wonderful for him to see.

"I don't understand," said Aarbron. "It's still daylight outside. Does he turn back into flesh in dark places?"

"No, it doesn't work like that," Alan said. "It's all to do with their body-clock, not their surroundings." He turned to look back at Alistair, still looking appalled. "I don't believe this... What's the fucking idiot doing?"

Aarbron was about to say that Alistair was a traitor and had caved in to his bestial nature, but seeing Alan and Rachel in such states of silent distress held him back. He reasoned that such an accusation would be insensitive at this time, and he was sure that both of them were coming to the same conclusion he had reached anyway. Rachel, meanwhile, looking utterly betrayed, had one simple question:

"Why?"

"How could I turn him down?" Alistair replied, in a pained tone of voice. "You should all try being gargoyles for a week, and then tell me what it feels like to not see a blue sky, or feel the warmth of the sun. I try to cover it up and make a joke out of it, but it's been tearing me up for a long time." He looked down at his flesh body, almost as if admiring it. "Whatever powers Maletoth got his hands on, they were able to do this. They were able to let me walk about in the day. Ishran woke me up after I arrived here, and promised me this if I stayed here with his clan." He looked over apologetically at Rachel. "Think whatever you want of me, but this might be the only chance I'll have of becoming a day-walker. I can't pass it up. I'm staying here."

Rachel looked as if she was going to burst into tears. If she had been up against any random Beast she would have been feeling a lot more confident. Seeing that Alistair had abandoned them – worse, betrayed them – made her feel as if someone had turned her inside-out twice. She gazed pleadingly at Alistair, fighting back the tears.

"Don't do this..." she said quietly.

"I'm sorry," Alistair said, full of regret, "but rules are rules. Now that you've agreed, you can't leave until you're beaten, otherwise I'd tell you to get out while you can."

"_Oh, enough of the chatter and the last-minute appeals,"_ Ishran said wearily. _"Let's get on with the fighting, shall we?"_

"Do something!" Alan muttered furiously to Aarbron, as Alistair launched himself at Rachel with a clenched fist. "Can't we just kill the gecko now and be done with it?"

"No," Aarbron said. "He could destroy us with a mere thought if we act now. We have to wait for just the right time, when he's distracted."

"Well, that time had better hurry itself up," Alan snarled, wincing as Rachel was punched hard twice. "I'm not letting Rachel die for your sake!"

Rachel put up a brave fight, but her lack of combat experience rendered the outcome inevitable. After a few mere seconds of struggle, Alistair struck her down and sent her to the floor. She lay still for a moment before gasping for breath, shaking and trying to push herself up. It was clear, however, that she was beaten, physically and mentally. From somewhere close by, the baby started to cry. Strangely, Alistair had not drawn his weapons; Alan was sure that he would have done so had he intended to kill the engineer.

"She's finished," Alistair said.

"_Not yet, my little Beast,"_ Ishran said. _"Finish her off. Kill her."_

"What?" Alistair said, looking indignant. "But she's beaten! Lift the shield and let her go!"

"_You want to be able to walk about in the daylight, do you not?"_ Ishran asked, his tone full of venom. _"I gave you that power, Alistair, and I can just as easily take it away..."_ His eyes flashed with a more intense glow, and Alistair screamed in agony and fell to the floor. There was a crackling sound, and his skin started to turn into an odd mix of its living green colour and the grey stone. Alan had seen this half-way state several times out in space, where there was no day or night, and he knew that it caused Alistair a lot of pain to be in this state. Ishran had now pulled him into that very same condition, only the pain now seemed to be magnified as Alistair was screaming blue murder. The gargoyle seethed as Ishran snorted contemptuously.

"No..." Alistair groaned, shaking his head. "I can't..."

"_I could even freeze you in stone for an eternity if I wanted,"_ the dragon gloated. _"Such is the fate of all who dare to defy the will of the Beast-Lord. You know what to do if you want to avoid this fate..."_

Distracted by focusing his efforts into torturing Alistair, Ishran hadn't noticed that the engineer had struggled back onto her feet. She was bruised, battered and exhausted, but she bravely staggered to her feet and hobbled over towards Alistair. She held the handle of her gun tightly, and then raised it over her head. Alistair barely felt the impact of the handle against the back of his neck before he crumpled to the floor, knocked out cold. The sheer effort of doing this in her condition nearly caused Rachel to pass out. She barely managed to crawl towards the still-squealing child and scoop her up into her arms. When Ishran realised what had happened, his face became livid as the light from the circle of runes began to fade and then finally died.

"_No!"_ he bellowed. _"What have you done?"_

"She defeated your champion, Ishran," Aarbron said simply. "Nothing about that spell says anything about having to kill the opponent; just ensure they are no longer capable of fighting. Surely someone with as much knowledge of the arcane as yourself would have realised this?" He gave a defiant smirk, enjoying the frustrated look on Ishran's face as he released a guttural snarl. "Even though you could potentially destroy us all by blinking, you set the rules of the combat. You cannot break them." He kept a hand close to the Glaive strapped to his belt. Ishran was glaring at the human, the glow in his eyes becoming more intense.

"_Fine,"_ Ishran snarled. _"I cannot claim the child, but I will make you all pay for this insult. No-one defies the will of the Beast-Lord and lives. I will start with the three trespassers."_ He turned his gaze to the unconscious Alistair and Rachel, who was holding the frightened baby and kneeling over the gargoyle protectively. The dragon opened his mouth, and a pulsing red glow could be seen at the back of his maw. He was charging up his fire-breath, intending to incinerate these strangers that had destroyed his plans.

Just as he was about to release his fire breath on Alistair and Rachel, however, he was suddenly slammed and stunned for a few seconds by what looked like a large ball of electricity. He wasn't really hurt; thanks to his hide, such magical attacks barely tickled him. He turned to see who would have the audacity to try to attack him, and he saw the other Beast creature, holding what he recognised to be a gun, the barrel of which was still smoking. Such a weapon should not have fired a magical blast like that which he felt, but he was sure that the magical energies were coming from the weapon. Such technology was unheard of on this planet, even during the time before the Beast-Lord.

He charged straight at Alan, his claws crashing down near Rachel, Alistair and the baby, barely missing them. He actually trampled several Beasts underfoot as he charged at Alan, spewing out his molten breath. His eyes gleamed in satisfaction as this upstart of a mutant who had dared to attack him was forced to run for his life, striking down any Beasts that tried to stop him with a weapon apparently made out of pure energy. Within a few steps Ishran was upon him, and lashed a claw out, striking Alan with a vicious backhand that sent him flying across the chamber.

The dragon immediately commanded his armies to hold Alan still. As he approached, he saw the mutant try to put up a fight, but the swarm of the Beasts got the better of him and he was held fast. Alan peered at Ishran with an annoyingly defiant gaze; even with the prospect of imminent death, he persisted in not showing signs of weakness. He admired that; if this creature was not so rebellious, he would have made a wonderful Alpha. Still, he would incinerate the little pest and study his weapons to unlock their secrets. So what if he destroyed a few Beasts in the process; he could always create more. There were plenty of other life-forms left on this planet just ripe for feeling the taste of power that the Far Realm provided. He charged up his fire-breath again, preparing to erase this recent nuisance from his existence.

He didn't feel the sudden cut in his neck until it was too late. By the time he felt the sharp sting of the blades digging into his neck, his spinal column had been cleaved in two, and he only had enough time to form an expression of complete shock before his face became paralysed, frozen in that expression forever. As a result, he did not feel the blades spinning wildly, sawing through his neck as if it were merely a piece of tender beef. He didn't see the blades stick out of the sides of his neck, still spinning madly away as they moved in a circular pattern, making a neat cut around the whole circumference. His head slowly slid off his neck and fell to the floor with a loud thud.

It was a quick and relatively painless death, which was more than what Aarbron felt Ishran deserved. After it had done its work the Glaive flew straight over the heads of the crowds of Beasts, straight back into Aarbron's outstretched hand. His eyes had the familiar red glow to them as he had tapped into the magic that he had spent the past year suppressing and learning how to control. He had felt Ishran's call in the back of his mind and had barely resisted it, and after he retrieved his prized weapon he collapsed to one knee, completely exhausted both physically and mentally. Even if he had died at that very instant, he would do so knowing that he had succeeded. Ishran was dead, and the child was safe.

With Ishran's death, the Beasts suddenly began to retreat. They were lost without their leader, and scattered far and wide into the wilds, mindless and without a goal. Alan stared in disbelief at what Aarbron had done.

"Why couldn't you have done that sooner?" he said aloud, approaching the exhausted Aarbron.

"I told you," Aarbron replied gravely, his voice barely more than a whisper, "I had to wait until he was sufficiently distracted. You drew his attention away from me, and gave me time to prepare."

Alan was about to say every swear word that he could imagine for not being allowed to hear this plan before it was carried out; he was mad that Aarbron had essentially tried to use him as bait. However, when Rachel called him over, he found that he could not do it. The needs of his crew had to come first, and so he marched over to where Rachel was kneeling, still holding the baby and trying to calm her down. Beside her, Alistair was still unconscious, but now he was twitching and shaking as if he was having a seizure.

"Alistair?" Alan called, to no avail. He turned to Aarbron. "You have any idea what's happening?" Aarbron kneeled over Alistair, placing a hand on the gargoyle's brow.

"He is running at a very high fever," he said. "He may be having the same nightmares that I have had for many, many years. The blood of the Beast can cause one to see the most... dreadful things..." He tailed off; apparently this was a sensitive subject for him.

"Isn't there some way of helping him?" Alan asked.

"I do know someone who may be able to help," Aarbron replied. "He lives on the continent of Karamoon, and is knowledgeable on matters of the arcane. Your friend has not been exposed to the Beast-Lord's magic for long; we may still be able to restore him." He shook his head. "Of course, Karamoon is a long journey, and the land itself is treacherous. There is no telling what will stand between us and my old friend."

"We've got that covered," Alan said. "Let's just get Alistair out of here, for starters; I feel like this place is eating me alive."

It took several minutes of backtracking before the group managed to emerge back in the late afternoon sun, Alan and Aarbron carrying the stricken Alistair between them. Alan still found it hard to believe that whatever magic Ishran had used on Alistair was keeping him in flesh form during the day. He wondered what sort of magic could possibly bend the laws of nature like that, and the thought of such power existing unnerved him. He could feel Alistair shaking badly, in the grip of a fever. Rachel, holding the considerably calmer child, tried to say some comforting words to Alistair, but he was unresponsive.

"Bishop," Alan said, speaking into his commlink. "How soon can you get to us?"

"_I've got a fix on your position, Captain,"_ Bishop's voice replied. _"I can be there in ten minutes. There's been no sign of any Sangheili technology anywhere on this planet."_

"Forget about that right now," Alan cut in. "We need immediate evac. Alistair's in a bad way."

"_You want us to rendezvous with the fleet as soon as possible?"_ Bishop asked. Alan looked over at Aarbron for a moment. He was sure that they would not be able to help Alistair by getting him off-world. They needed a local expert, and if Aarbron knew someone then he was willing to give them a try.

"Not yet," Alan answered. "There's somewhere on this planet we need to go first."

"_But didn't you just say-"_ Bishop replied, but Alan interrupted him.

"I know what I said. Just trust me on this. Get here as quickly as _Serenity_'s engines will allow."

"_Roger, Captain,"_ Bishop replied. _"ETA ten minutes."_

As Alan closed the line, he got a glimpse of Aarbron's expression. He was looking deeply impressed with Alan's commlink, and it soon became apparent that he had never seen an effective method of long-range communication before. Aarbron had decided not to press the issue, however, reasoning that they had more important things to worry about at present. He only hoped that his old friend could provide some answers, for in spite of his mistake in trusting Ishran this gargoyle did not deserve to suffer the way he had.

0

An hour later, the _Serenity_ had reached the continent of Karamoon. It was several hundred miles south-east of the continent the group had left, and was in a more tropical climate than the temperate ones from before. Peering through the windows on the control deck into the dense jungle below, Alan caught signs of habitation, with strange green-skinned humanoids scattering, alarmed by the noise of the ship's engines. It was now beginning to get dark, the sun setting over the distant horizon and leaving a dark orange sky.

Aarbron had assisted Bishop in the navigation, and he remained quietly impressed by the _Serenity_. Under happier circumstances he would have had a barrage of questions about the ship and the technicalities of space travel. He wasn't sure how the crew would react to questioning, however, especially while their comrade was in distress, and decided that it would be more polite to remain quiet.

Alistair, meanwhile, was being kept in the infirmary. His vitals seemed to be fine, but he continued to tremble in his sleep, sweating a great deal. Rachel stayed in the engine room all the way through the journey tending to the baby; it was her usual haunt, but she seemed to be making a conscious effort to avoid discussing Alistair; she clearly had been stung deeply by their fight earlier; regardless of what Alistair had said, she knew that she wouldn't feel ready to talk to him for some time to come.

Aarbron pointed the way towards a ruined building, covered in trees and vines. It was now so overgrown that it was difficult to tell what it once might have been. Fortunately there was a clearing just outside that was barely large enough to allow the _Serenity_ to land safely. Alan and Aarbron stepped out of the cargo bay, once again carrying Alistair between them. In the darkness of the trees around them he thought he could see the outlines of figures moving in the undergrowth. Luckily nothing stepped out to engage them, which would have been the last thing Alan felt they needed.

Stepping carefully through the dark entrance archway, Alan found that the branches of the trees were very thick, blocking out a lot of the sunlight. It still shone through the occasional gap in the branches and through ruined windows, but the impression he got was of a cave made of vegetation. The interior of the ruins were quite large, and Alan's eyes widened when he saw that they were inhabited by another dragon. This one was of a similar size and shape to Ishran, but his scales were a silver colour instead, shimmering in the faint sunset. Upon hearing the sound of their footsteps the dragon turned to face them. It peered at Aarbron for a moment before its snout twisted into a warm smile.

"_Aarbron, my old friend,"_ he said in a deep, kindly tone. _"It has been too long."_

"It has indeed, Barloom," Aarbron nodded.

"_I sense, however,"_ Barloom said, looking towards the others, _"that once again we are not meeting under happy circumstances. Who are these two?"_

"Comrades-in-arms from another world," Aarbron explained quickly. "They helped me to finally lay your brother to rest."

"_So Ishran's madness finally destroyed him..."_ Barloom murmured. _"I am sorry it had to come to that, but when dealing with the powers of the Far Realm very few options are open to one."_ He looked over at the two _Serenity_ crew members, with his piercing gaze giving Alan the impression that he was being mind-read. He had seen every other dragon he had ever met using that look, and all of them had psychic capability, so he reasoned that dragons on other worlds were not likely to be that different. After spending a moment peering at Alistair, his eyes narrowed.

"_He too has been touched..."_ he snarled.

"I know," Aarbron said. He and Alan carefully set Alistair down on the stone floor. "I had hoped that something could be done for him. He was not exposed to Maletoth's magic for long, maybe it hasn't had time to take hold of him..." His tone sounded desperate, and his face fell when Barloom firmly shook his head.

"_I'm sorry, my friend,"_ the dragon rumbled, _"but I can only give you the same answer that I gave when you came to me before, when you noticed the blood of the Beast had not left you. The powers of the Far Realm leave permanent scars in the minds of those they touch. Even an extraordinarily strong will can succumb to their corruption if exposed to them for long enough. Perhaps Maletoth once believed he could control them, regardless of what his intentions originally were. You yourself are still a victim of their corruption, even now, and your friend will never fully heal. He will always have the blood of the Beast flowing through his veins now."_

"You must be joking!" Alan suddenly said, unable to hold in his disappointment. "You're telling me that if he so much as sniffs these Far Realm powers, or whatever they are, he's going to end up turning on us again? Fuck that!"

"Alan!" Aarbron half-shouted. He seemed aghast that anyone would dare to address a dragon in this manner. "Your friend is lucky; you have the means of taking him away from this world and away from Maletoth's influence. I have to always resist the urge to tap into those terrible powers for every day of my life! You should consider yourself lucky!"

"Lucky?" Alan snapped. "Lucky that my crewman and friend is now a walking time-bomb? You've got some funny ideas on-"

Before Alan could go any further, Barloom suddenly emitted an ear-splitting roar. He clearly had no patience for such petty bickering, especially when an ally's health was at stake. He turned his piercing gaze over to Alan, causing the mutant to fall completely silent.

"_Your name is Alan, is it not?"_ he said. _"I understand your concern, but you must also understand that the powers of the Far Realm cannot be easily removed. Aarbron is extraordinarily strong-willed even when compared to immortals, and even he cannot fully rid himself of the taint. If I thought I could safely purge both him and your comrade then I would. To do so, however, would mean taking such power into myself, making me more susceptible to the corruption of the Far Realm. Your encounter with Ishran should be all the reason you need for why I cannot take that risk._

"_As Aarbron has said, you can take your friend away from this world. Being away from here will rid him of Maletoth's influence, at least."_ He gazed out of one of the ruined windows, where the night sky was now beginning to show. _"However, I wonder if the influence of the Far Realm stretches beyond our lowly sphere. If that is the case, you must be sure not to let him come into contact with such energy again. Remember that, now that he has been touched by their powers, he is particularly susceptible to them. His will may be strong, but you must be prepared to do what is necessary, should the worst happen."_

Alan closed his eyes. Once again he felt as if he was trapped. He tried to control his indignance, still hardly daring to believe his misfortune once again. After a moment of silence, he resigned himself to the fact that he had to trust Alistair implicitly, and hope that the time when he had to intervene would never come.

"I..." he muttered. "I understand." He looked at Alistair's prostrate form, which was no longer twitching in fever. He now looked as if he was merely taking a long nap. It occurred to him that, while this so-called Far Realm magic still affected him, he would be able to walk about in the daylight. Alistair had gotten what he always wanted, but Alan felt that the price he had paid was far too high.

0

After parting from Barloom, the _Serenity_ crew dropped Aarbron off at a small, ramshackle house to safely return the child to her parents. The baby had calmed considerably since her ordeal, and seemed to have enjoyed Rachel's company, happily giggling and gurgling as the ship had flown. The owners of the house looked very shocked to see the great metal ship stop in front of the building, and they were overjoyed to see Aarbron walk down the entrance ramp carrying their unharmed, healthy baby.

Alan had offered to allow Aarbron to join his crew, feeling that they could use someone with his capabilities on board and that time away from Maletoth's surviving powers might do him good. The warrior had politely turned him down, however, in spite of being very curious about space travel. His reasoning was that he would do a lot more good by staying on his world and doing what he could with the time he had left; Alan would have enough on his plate keeping Alistair sane.

As for Alistair, he had woken up during the journey back to the mainland and quietly sneaked into his cabin, feeling that he could not face the crew, particularly Rachel. He did not emerge until the ship had left the planet's orbit and was speeding through slip-space to rejoin the Fleet Shadow of Fury. He went into the cargo bay and sat down on one of the catwalks, peering at the curved walls. The gargoyle had never felt more ashamed of himself, and his mood only worsened as Alan entered the cargo bay to take a count of their supplies.

"I was wondering where you'd got to," Alan said gravely. He knew that this conversation had to happen eventually, and that it would be extremely awkward. Alistair didn't look at him, but he closed his eyes.

"I don't need a lecture, Captain," he said. "I screwed up; no two ways about it. I got so carried away by Ishran's offer that I didn't think he'd stab me in the back. You should've just killed me there and then. I almost killed Rachel, after all; I deserve nothing less." Alan was about to answer, but Alistair interrupted him. "Don't even give me that 'it wasn't you' bull. I made my choice; I betrayed my crew, and I've brought shame to you, my clan and to myself. What would my great-grandad say now, eh?" He let out a long sigh. "If you wanna toss me out of the airlock, you go ahead and do it."

Surprisingly to both Alistair and himself, Alan actually smiled and shook his head. He had calmed considerably since the meeting with Barloom and had taken the time since then to put things in perspective.

"If I did," he said, "I'd have to throw myself out of that same airlock. You went after what you wanted more than anything else in this whole universe at any cost, even if it meant siding with an obvious lunatic. Welcome to the club." Alistair looked up at him, surprised.

"If you'd known Kiryuu Knight back in the twenty-first century," he continued, "you'd know what I meant. Back then Kiryuu was a scheming, manipulative megalomaniac with ambition far outstripping whatever his creators had intended. He had no qualms about manipulating events to his advantage no matter who got hurt in the process. Maybe the long centuries have knocked some sense into him, but I'm still not convinced he's done a complete one-eighty.

"Yet I made a deal with him. He had something I wanted more than anything else. I would have gladly killed for it. Kiryuu knew that, and dangled it in front of me like a worm on a hook. Against my better judgement, I went along with his plans, and look where it got me today." At this, Alistair snorted.

"I'm not Kiryuu, though," the gargoyle said, his voice shaking. "I bet he never wilfully stabbed you in the back or plotted to take over the world."

"He did anyway though, didn't he?" Alan retorted. "Just not in the way you're thinking of. He still made a fuck-ton of mistakes though. That said, my question to you is this; what do you plan to do about your almighty cock-up? Do you really plan to just piss and moan about it before throwing yourself out of an airlock?"

Alistair said nothing, but Alan was sure that he saw the faintest trace of a smile playing across his beak. He knew that Alistair now had to remain the strongest-willed of all of the crew if he was to have any chance of saving both the crew and himself. He knew that Alistair was not beyond hope; his refusal to kill Rachel had been proof of that.

"Back in the twentieth century," he added, "someone said 'When you're going through Hell, keep going'. Those words have got me this far, and you might want to keep them in mind." He started to walk back along the catwalk towards the steps leading up to the crew's cabins. He would do the stock-taking another time; Alistair would need some time alone to process what Alan had said and make his decision.

"Besides," he added, stopping for a moment and smirking slightly. "I don't think I could afford to hire a new First Mate."

As he walked up the steps to the cabins, he saw Rachel stooping on the top step. He could not say how long she had been there or how much of the conversation she had heard, but she nodded appreciatively to Alan as he passed before stepping down into the cargo bay.

Alan didn't see or hear what followed, but he only hoped that he had made the right choice.

**THE END**


End file.
